


Windows to the Soul

by Ponderosa



Category: Smokin' Aces (2006)
Genre: Assassins, Bisexual Character, Canon Bisexual Character, Canon Character of Color, Canon Queer Character of Color, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Murder, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-26
Updated: 2010-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-06 17:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ponderosa/pseuds/Ponderosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If things had been different, Pasquale might have had time to get to know Bill, work the con more subtly than just a suit and badge could allow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Windows to the Soul

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt 'heaven'.

Bill's a good, predictable man. There is nothing more useful in Pasquale's world than a man like Bill. He lives alone, has coffee and cereal for breakfast, packs his own lunch, and in the evenings after a drink at the bar, he watches reality television.

Pasquale sees it all in Bill's gaze as the man tries desperately to cling to life.

Bill's frustrations are easy to read: never found a wife, never could keep a clean apartment, was beginning to resent even the nicest tourists. He could scream for how hard it was to escape a casino town, reliable paycheck and free drinks. Yet all his chances for screaming are months late and seconds gone. Blood gurgles into his lungs, prepping to spill free past the tremble of his mouth.

"Shh." Pasquale kisses him, chastely on the rise of his cheeks. If things had been different, Pasquale might have had time to get to know Bill, work the con more subtly than just a suit and badge could allow. He could've eased into Bill's life, his bed, taught him a thing or two about how a man could want what he never guessed, and then left him with a few tools to reach his predictable dreams.

It would've been child's play to shake up Bill's pathetic routine, tap into that faint glimmer that when he'd first walked in to the security office told him Bill envied more than just a Bureau business card.

Bill's body convulses, no room in his lungs for even the shortest of breaths. His gaze finds momentary focus and Pasquale can so very clearly see how good a fuck Bill could be if he'd just let loose. He'd grin, like he couldn't believe his dick was in Pasquale to the root, and he'd slap Pasquale on the thigh, get bolder when Pasquale rode him harder for it. Would bite and suck at the tips of Pasquale's fingers and not ask enough questions about the thick scars or the way it made Pasquale come hard and messy all over Bill's chest.

But that isn't the hand that God has dealt them. God didn't watch over men like Pasquale, and when he dies, it won't be like Bill. It won't be as peaceful as this, or in the company of a man who cares enough to stay to the very end.

Pasquale closes Bill's eyes before the moment that says a vision of Heaven awaits. He's seen enough.


End file.
